


The Other Audience

by lha



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 19:24:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9137938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lha/pseuds/lha
Summary: Once a week, the Prime Minister has an audience with the Queen.  It would be foolish if she didn't see the the people who really know what's going on every now and again as well...





	

Mycroft undid the buttons of his suit jacket before sitting carefully on the exquisite chesterfield, smoothing out the knee of his trousers and flicking a stray thread from the fabric. He always took pains to dress well, enjoyed the fact that should he be summoned somewhere at a moment’s notice, he was always suitably attired but when he knew in advance that he would be attending a particularly important meeting, well there were suits and suits, even in a wardrobe as well tailored as his own. The door he had recently entered via opened again, and he stood, fastening his jacket without thought as another guest was shown in. 

“Giles,” he greeted the older man, extending a hand so that they could shake. 

“Mycroft,” he said with a smile, “it’s good to see you.”

“And you,” he agreed, far more genuinely than was often the case, “still in one piece?” 

“Just about, I’m too old to be dragged into the field too often these days.”

“If you’re old then I must be positively prehistoric,” came a new voice from the doorway. 

“Minerva,” Rupert Giles said warmly, “it’s been far too long.” He reached out to take her upper arms before kissing her cheek and then withdrawing. 

“Let me take my hat off at least,” she protested, removing the understated cloche and handing it, along with her coat, to the young man waiting to take them from her, “Mycroft, you’re looking more peely-wally than usual.” He arched an eyebrow in response but took her hand so that he could raise it to his lips. 

“Always a pleasure, Professor McGonagall,” he said dryly, though he had to suppress his mouth from twitching in amusement.

“I’m old enough to be both of your grandmother, I’m allowed to say things as I see them.”

“I rather thought you had taken on the role of liaison because you were more diplomatic than the current Minister?” Mycroft jibed gently.

“Arthur has more diplomacy in his little finger than I do, he does however… get a little over excited when it comes to muggles.” This was a gross understatement of the facts; when Mycroft had first met the new minister for magic, Arthur Weasley, he had been able to read him like a book and while he might be bumbling and unfortunately excitable, he had not disliked him. The idea of having him involved in this sort of occasion however was a truly terrifying one, and so he greeted the appointment of an alternative primary contact between their worlds with nothing short of relief. While the Headmistress had seemed at first a strange choice, it had soon transpired however that her calm head and ability to read a group of people made her ideal. 

“So Mr Giles,” she continued once they’d all taken their seats again, “judging by the fact that the world has not ended and we have not been overrun by beasts from some other dimension, I take it there have been no actual apocalypse since we last spoke?”

“All quiet on that front. Touch wood,” he added reaching forward and knocking on the exquisite occasional table between them, “and with you?”

“One or two rumbles from across the Atlantic and from the continent but nothing immediate nor too close to home. No need to ask how you’re faring,” she finished, turning her steely gaze back to Mycroft. 

“Hmm,” he replied, crossing his legs and resettling his trousers across his knees, “I have certainly had quieter periods.”

“I can only imagine what that little office of yours has seen in the last six months,” Giles said with a wry smile.

“I would offer you a time turner but, perhaps thankfully, they were all destroyed several years ago.”

“A time turner?”

“A device with the ability to let you return in time a given number of hours, it at once made you very productive but also posed an incredible risk to the original timeline, and the  
user’s mental well-being.”

“But surely the advantages....” Mycroft found himself wondering out loud. 

“There speaks a true workaholic,” Giles chided.

“Not so great as learning that there are only so many hours in the day and so many things that any one individual can do with them. Believe me, I learnt the hard way that we can’t do everything ourselves.”

“Hmmm.”

“Not even you Mycroft,” she continued with a sigh, “I wish I’d never mentioned it now but it isn’t an option so you would do well to dismiss the notion from your impressive mind.”

“It is a fascinating idea though,” Giles said, leaning forward, “not changing history of course - which inevitably ends in catastrophe, remind me to tell you how I know that,” he said, obviously spotting Mycroft’s interest once again being sparked, “but having more time to get what needs to be done completed. There have been several cases, where another few hours to prepare ourselves would have helped no end. I even asked the Coven in Devon if there was anything they could…”

“I remember…” Minerva said briskly. “I had to live through the same 3rd year Transfiguration class 6 times before they worked out how to break the loop they’d created.”

“They created a country wide anomaly?” Mycroft asked, wracking his brain for when this could have happened. Since he had been inducted into these other worlds, subcultures, whatever one described them as, he’d identified several cases where poor explanations that he’d never really bought had turned out to have actually been poor cover-ups of incidents with otherworldly or magical origins. The spike in deaths of pre-pubescent girls around the world, that it transpired tied in with a group called The Bringers, working on behalf of the original evil and what Rupert had described as their closest call with the end of the world. The number of unexplained deaths and the strange destructive events that it became apparent coincided with the rise of someone that he still found almost impossible to credit was referred to by the entirely ridiculous pseudonym of You Know Who. But despite this, he had no recollection of being stuck in any sort of time loop.

“It’s likely that you would never have noticed,” Minerva reassured him. “Hogwarts itself is attuned to the magical energies that are disrupted in that kind of event, as are those of us who have been trained properly in the art of magic.”

“Trained properly, being the operative word there,” Giles added with a wink.

“Oh don’t be like that Rupert, you know as well was I do the difference between those who are born with magic and can be identified as a witch or wizard, and those that can learn to tap into the natural magical forces around them to a greater or lesser extent.”

“You’ll get no argument from me that. I’m not in your league.”

“It is more than that, and you know it, the Coven and their like, the magic they use it’s like a finite resource that isn’t being replenished… it’s like … Mycroft what is that energy source of yours that’s causing all those problems?”

“Fossil fuels?”

“Exactly, they use it like a fossil fuel. They consume it without heed to replenishing the stores or the byproducts of their actions. It can lead to a very unhealthy relationship with the magics that they rely on.”

“How is Willow?”

“Miss Rosenberg is quite well thank you, how the Salem Institute failed to identify her raw talent I have no idea but she seems to be thriving. You should come and visit her, I may even grant her a day off,”

“Being your apprentice is a more than full time job, the way she tells it.” There was a fond smile on Giles’ face at this.

“I’ll admit that her additional teaching responsibilities do make her load a full one, but I’m monitoring her carefully and her wand work really is improving.”  
Mycroft let them continue for several minutes, their friendly chiding washing over him as he revelled in the insights to both of their fascinating lives. It was at once both humbling and reaffirming to know that there were things beyond his ken and control, and people who took responsibility for them. The idea of a Council of Watchers and Slayers that looked after the streets at night, fighting an enemy that very few knew existed, or an entire society that was steeped in magic… well it was strangely reassuring. The weight of his world may be on his shoulders but there were other people on whom Britain rested and while the divisions between these worlds was essential he also knew that times were changing and that this meeting was only one sign of the increasing lines of communication between those who fought the dark, the dangerous and in his case merely the incomprehensible.  
At the sound of his name, he started out of his internal musings,

“...Mycroft?” Giles had asked him a question but for once his usual perfect recall was failing him, “that’s it, you definitely need a night off, mate.”

“Once we’re done here we could retire to that lovely place Mycroft took us to last time,” the witch suggested.

“I am not going to Claridges again, I always feel like an imposter,” the head of the Council of Watchers & Slayers protested, “besides, I think it’s your turn to host.”

“Well really... ” Minerva sighed.

“Oh go on, Mycroft you’re up for a little adventure aren’t you?” To be fair any hesitation he felt was almost instantly dwarfed by the interest that was sparked at the idea of visiting Diagon Alley again.

“I really should go and see my brother…” he said, trying valiantly to objectively weigh the options.

“Well that’s as good as a yes then,” Giles declared triumphantly.

“Very well then. But I think perhaps I shall take you up to Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks. I’m less likely to bump into any of my students there at this time of year.”

“Is that the place…?”

“It’s in the Highlands but I think I’ll manage to shorten the travelling time a little.” 

“Perhaps you ought to be introducing Minerva to the Minister for Transport Mycroft” Rupert chided lightly.

“Rupert Giles, you know better than to jest about such things and if I can’t trust you to be sensible I shall not be taking either of you anywhere.”

“Ah, I should caution you Minerva,” Mycroft said quietly, “that there is no quicker way to the heart of men such as ourselves than through evoking memories of Nanny.” Giles laughed at this, openly and loudly which seemed a strange sound in such hallowed halls. The door opened and Harry stepped in, 

“Apologies for keeping you waiting, but Her Majesty is ready for you now.”

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of these three in a room together has been rattling around my head for a while and it was only after a conversation with a friend while we wandered around the British Museum that I finally managed to get something down on (virtual) paper.  
> I hope you've enjoyed it and in either case would love to hear what you thought,  
> thanks  
> L  
> PS - Happy Hogmanay!


End file.
